


The Seeds We've Sewn Still Grow

by anodyneer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Basketball, Childhood Memories, Chris Argent Appreciation Week, Chris Argent Backstory, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, POV Chris Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 20:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15736368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anodyneer/pseuds/anodyneer
Summary: Chris takes Peter to a place that was an important part of his past to ask him to become an important part of his future.





	The Seeds We've Sewn Still Grow

**Author's Note:**

> For [Chris Argent Appreciation Week 2018](https://chrisargentappreciationweek.tumblr.com/)'s free day. (I'm a day late because I misread the dates, but late Petopher is better than none!)
> 
> Not really sure where this came from, but I kind of liked the idea of these two playing a little one-on-one (we know Peter loves basketball), and a mental image of them finding and playing at an abandoned court turned into Chris backstory and romantic gestures and a proposal. My brain is a strange place.
> 
> Title is from "Things My Father Said" by Black Stone Cherry.

Chris led Peter through the forest, following a trail that was once much easier to navigate, trampled flat by countless boys in hiking boots over the years. Eventually, though, the parade of young adventurers had ended for good, and nature had reclaimed most of the trail. Thanks to the deer, it was still discernible, but it was much more narrow than Chris remembered.

“You still haven’t told me where you’re taking me,” Peter reminded him yet again.

“Just say ‘are we there yet’ like a normal child.” Chris managed to keep from smiling, but only just. There was an indignant huff from behind him.

“I’ll have you know, I –”

“I love you, Peter,” Chris interrupted, and he could hear Peter come to an abrupt halt. When Chris turned to look at him, Peter was smirking at him.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.” He hooked his index finger over the neck of Chris’s t-shirt and tugged him in for a chaste kiss. “But that’s still a dirty trick.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Chris leaned in for another kiss. “And it’s the truth,” he murmured against Peter’s lips. Peter’s hands slipped to Chris’s waist, and Chris was vaguely tempted to just go back to the car and see how much trouble they could get into in the back seat. Still, he had drinks and snacks in the cooler, a few surprises in the backpack slung over his shoulders, and he was covered in bug spray and sunblock.

Besides, Peter was constantly pulling out the grand gestures for Chris. Who knew the guy was a closet romantic? And while Chris’s idea of a romantic day might be much different – and more rustic – than Peter’s, he hoped Peter would see it for what it was and would at least appreciate the attempt.

“Come on,” he said, reaching for one of Peter’s hands. “I still have something to show you.” He started down the path again, and Peter followed, curling his fingers through Chris’s.

“You’re not surprising me with a cabin in the woods, are you? Because I’m very fond of our home, and we both know you appreciate the creature comforts as much as I do.”

“I’m not,” Chris promised, glancing back at him. “This is just a day trip. And if I’m remembering right, we’re almost there.”

“Well, in that case, I won’t ask if you know where you’re going.”

Chris snorted but didn’t reply. Though it had been decades, and the forest had changed, he was still able to pick out enough natural landmarks to find his way.

Finally, he saw their destination through the trees and grinned. “It’s right up here.” He led Peter through a break in the tree line and around a gap in what had once been a fence. They emerged in a large clearing, and Chris stopped to just look around for a moment. Peter stepped up beside him, dropping the cooler, and Chris shrugged out of the backpack.

“So…” Peter trailed off, and Chris looked over just in time to see the realization hit. Peter turned to him with a wide grin. “This is quite possibly the strangest romantic gesture I’ve ever seen, Christopher. I love it.”

Chris unzipped the backpack and pulled out a basketball, tossing it at Peter’s chest. Peter caught it and gave it an experimental bounce at the edge of the well-weathered concrete. His smile melted into something a little softer.

“This brings back memories,” he said, all of the usual cockiness gone from his voice. “It’s been a long time since I’ve played outside of a gym.”

“I know it has,” Chris said, coming up behind Peter and wrapping his arms around his waist. “I used to play here every summer as a kid. Gave me a chance to get away from the family stuff.” He nuzzled into Peter’s neck, burying the words that were better left unspoken. _Away from growing up a hunter. Away from being Gerard Argent’s son._

The summer camp high in the mountains had been Chris’s escape from his father and from training to carry on the family business. For one month out of the year, Chris got to be a normal kid. It had been his favorite thing in the world back then.

The camp had remained open for decades after Chris aged out, but it had finally closed a few years back. The basketball court, where Chris had spent many an afternoon and evening during his time at camp, was still in decent shape, though there were weeds growing through a couple of cracks in the concrete, and the surrounding vegetation was probably nearly impassible in the summer.

“So,” he said next to Peter’s ear, “what do you say to some one-on-one?”

Peter hummed and leaned back against him. “Is that a euphemism, lover, or are we really here to shoot hoops?”

Chris knocked the ball out of Peter’s hands in response and slipped around him to grab it before dribbling to the nearest rusty hoop for an easy layup.

He retrieved it and turned to toss it to Peter, who was watching him with a sly smirk on his face.

“I’ll let you have that one,” Peter told him, bouncing the ball in front of himself. “You’ll have to play fair for the rest.”

“Since when do you believe in playing fair?”

Peter pretended to think about it for a moment. “You make a valid point.” And with that, he charged forward, spinning around Chris and easily making a layup of his own.

After that, the game was on, much to Chris’s delight. They played old school one-on-one, and though it was obvious Peter wasn’t using any of his physical advantages, Chris was still happy that he was at least holding his own against someone who’d once been a star basketball player – even if it was back in high school.

It didn’t take long for both of them to work up a sweat, and Peter was quick to strip out of his shirt, throwing it to the side of the court. Chris left his own on for the time being.

As expected, after a few more points were scored, Peter dropped the ball and pressed up against him, game temporarily forgotten. He wrapped his fingers around the hem of Chris’s shirt.

“You look _hot_ , Christopher,” Peter murmured, inching the shirt up to the bottom of Chris’s ribs. “I’d like to help you with this, if I may.”

“Be my guest.” Chris lifted his arms, and Peter pushed the shirt up over his heaving chest and sweat-soaked hair. He tossed it aside with his own, backing away just far enough to rake his eyes up and down Chris’s naked torso.

“You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” The words were spoken in awe, and Chris blushed. Peter never failed to let Chris know that he looked great and that Peter was hopelessly attracted to him – had been for years, in fact – but it was something Chris had gone most of his life without hearing, and he still wasn’t used to it.

Sensing Chris’s discomfort, Peter snuck in a quick kiss before slipping around Chris to grab the ball. He started dribbling between his legs and behind his back, showing off while Chris caught his breath. When Chris finally got back into the game and lunged for him, Peter easily dodged him to score yet again.

He bounced the ball back to Chris at the barely visible foul line and then got right up in Chris’s face, waving his arms, blocking any chance for a shot. Chris tried to slip to the left, then twisted back to the right, but he was still winded and couldn’t keep up with Peter’s reflexes.

Finally, Chris had enough. He dropped back to almost half court, dribbling around the weeds poking up through cracks in the pavement. Peter kept up with him but dropped his hands, uncertainty bleeding in around the edges of his cocky smile.

“You’re not giving up, are you, sweetheart? I’m just getting my second wind.”

“No,” Chris told him with a shrug. “I’m just changing the game.” With that, he took aim and threw the ball in a perfect arc. It sailed through the rusty hoop, never touching the sides, and Peter gaped at him.

“What was that?”

Chris shrugged again and flashed him a tired grin. “I believe that was two.”

Peter stared at him for a moment before breaking into laughter. It wasn’t his usual reserved chuckle, though. This was a big, carefree laugh that Chris had never seen from Peter. Not ever. Chris couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across his face.

“What?”

Peter shook his head and wiped the tears from his eyes, matching Chris’s grin with one of his own. “You will never cease to amaze me, Christopher Argent. It’s just one of the many reasons I love you.”

Chris stepped into Peter’s space and kissed him, giving himself a chance to breathe through the tightness in his chest. “Don’t get all sappy on me, Hale,” he murmured against Peter’s lips.

In truth, though, Chris loved it. He loved that they were able to show such easy affection for one another. He’d grown up in a household that was largely devoid of any sort of affection, and his marriage to Victoria hadn’t been much better. They’d eventually progressed to something that might have resembled love, but in the beginning, their marriage had been more about adding another strong hunter and leader to the Argent family than about any sort of attraction.

With Peter, Chris could be as open and affectionate as he wanted. Peter craved Chris’s touch as much as Chris needed his, and neither of them were shy about telling the other that they were loved. It was sometimes overwhelming to Chris that he was allowed to have this after so long, and that Peter felt the same way about him.

Peter rested his forehead against Chris’s. “What’s got you so worked up?”

“Just happy to have this,” Chris admitted. “Happy to have you.”

“Now who’s the sappy one?” Peter rumbled, but Chris could hear the fondness in his voice.

After so many years of being cold, calculating, hated, and kept at arm’s length by everyone in his life, Peter had finally given in to the need for pack, for touch, for closeness. For love. And he’d made it clear early in their relationship that he wanted all of the affection that Chris was willing to give him. They were open about their relationship and didn’t care what anyone thought about a Hale dating an Argent, a hunter dating a werewolf.

“So was it a fluke, or could you make that shot again?” When Chris looked at him incredulously, Peter tried for an innocent look and mostly missed. “Enquiring minds and all.”

Grateful for the distraction, Chris smirked at him. “Of course I can make it again. Go fetch the ball and I’ll show you.”

“Well, that was uncalled for,” Peter said, but he was grinning as he tracked down the basketball. They’d worked out the difference between simple teasing and truly offensive dog jokes long ago.

Chris caught Peter’s pass and stood where he’d been before, waiting until he was sure Peter was paying attention before he took the next shot. It went straight through the hoop, just barely nicking the side. Peter tossed the ball back, and Chris shifted to his right before once again making the shot. Peter was clapping and cheering him on between shots, with just enough heat in his gaze to make Chris smile. Any day he could feed Peter’s competency kink was guaranteed to be a good day.

“That’s game,” Chris said after sinking one more shot.

“Say again?”

“That’s 21. That’s the game. I won.” Chris flashed him a huge grin.

Peter’s eyebrows shot up. “I wasn’t aware that the game was still going, but if that’s the only way you can win against me, I suppose I’ll allow it.” It was a goad, Chris knew, but not a serious one, if the smile flirting with the corners of Peter’s mouth was anything to go by.

Chris dropped the ball, wrapped a hand around the back of Peter’s neck, and pulled him in for a sweet kiss. “Thank you, baby,” he said softly. Peter huffed but returned the kiss. “Let’s get something to drink, and then I’ll show you around.”

While Chris put the ball back in the pack, Peter grabbed a couple bottles of water from the cooler. They slipped back into their shirts before heading deeper into the camp, and Chris tried not to get choked up as he pointed out all of the familiar landmarks from his youth. More than once, he got lost in the memories, stopping to run his fingers over the weathered totem pole near the main lodge, standing at what had once been home plate on the overgrown baseball diamond.

“This was my cabin,” he told Peter, coming to a stop in front of the second in a row of small cabins. It was in pretty poor shape but was still standing. Peter chuckled at the sign above the door.

“You were in the Wolf Pack?”

“I was, indeed,” Chris told him. The memory of each cabin sounding off flashed through his mind, and he clapped his hands along with the words, as he’d done so long ago. “Wolf Pack sound off.” He threw back his head and howled, and Peter lost it, dissolving into a fit of something way too close to giggles. The laughter was contagious, and Chris soon found himself joining in. It ended with both of them breathless, holding on to each other for support.

“Oh, god,” Peter gasped, finally sobering. “What did your father think of that?”

“I didn’t tell him. He never came to visit, so I just told him I was in the Grizzly Den, and he was none the wiser.” Chris drank some of his water as he stared up at the cabin. There were so many memories contained within those walls – and some outside, as well. “Want to know what else I never told him?” He motioned for Peter to follow him around to the back of the cabin. “I had my first kiss with a girl at a dance in junior high…but this is where I first kissed a guy.”

“Really?” Peter arched an eyebrow at him.

Chris nodded. “Eddie Chamberlin. Damn, did he have a sinful mouth. I think he would’ve blown me back here if we hadn’t been so scared someone would catch us.”

Peter looked to be pondering something for a moment. “Was his mouth as sinful as mine?”

“Oh, no,” Chris answered. “Not by a long shot.”

“Hmm.” Peter’s eyes swept over him, considering. “Well, better late than never.”

Peter dropped to his knees, tugging open Chris’s fly as he went, and this time, Chris definitely didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

\-------------

“So, my love, why did you really bring me here?”

Chris didn’t answer at first, peering down at his bare feet as they skimmed the surface of the water.

After they’d gotten each other off behind the cabin, Chris had led them down to the dock overlooking the lake. He’d pulled a blanket from the backpack and spread it out over the worn wood planks. Though they had no plans to go swimming, they’d removed their socks and shoes and were dangling their feet over the edge.

“They’re going to raze the place,” he finally replied, his thumb rubbing absently over the back of Peter’s hand. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a lie, and he hoped Peter wouldn’t call him out on it. 

Peter was silent for a moment, eyes scanning the lake, before he responded. “That’s a shame.” Something else seemed to occur to him. “Please tell me they’re not going to build condos out here. Or worse, a fucking glampground.” He spit out the word like it personally offended him.

Chris snorted. “Glampground? No, it’s actually going to be a nature preserve.”

“Well, now that’s fitting.” Peter put his arm around Chris’s shoulders, and Chris leaned into him, letting out a long sigh. It felt so good to share some quiet time with Peter, away from the pack and Beacon Hills and civilization in general, really. Peter turned to plant a kiss right in front of Chris’s ear, one of his favorite spots. “Mmm. You smell happy.”

Chris chuckled and wrapped an arm around Peter’s lower back. “I am happy.”

“Being here really makes you this happy?”

“No,” Chris said, leaning back far enough to look into Peter’s eyes. “Being with you makes me this happy.”

Peter’s face lit up with a soft, genuine smile, one that only Chris was allowed to see. Many years and a lot of healing had gone into that smile, and Chris cherished every one of them.

“I’m glad you got to come back one last time. And I’m honored that you brought me along.”

“Wouldn’t have done it without you,” Chris admitted. He took a deep breath and looked out across the lake, gathering his nerve. “This place was a big part of my life. I could be myself here, you know? Learned a lot about who I was. Being here helped me realize that I didn’t have to be what was expected of me.”

“I’m happy you grew up to be so unexpected,” Peter said softly, startling a laugh out of Chris. It chased away the last of his nerves, and he finally looked back over at Peter.

“I also brought you here to ask you to marry me.”

Peter’s eyes went wide, his mouth dropped open, and for once, he was speechless.

“I wanted to share this part of my life with you, and I want to share the rest of my life with you. If you’ll have me.”

Peter’s mouth worked, but he still didn’t make a sound.

“Maybe it’ll help if I do this the right way.” Chris leaned back far enough to pull the ring from his pocket. He’d known as soon as he saw it that it was Peter’s style, brushed black tungsten carbide with beveled edges and a groove in the center. Bold, but elegant – just like Peter.

“Peter Hale –”

“Yes.” Peter stared at him, eyes shining and full of reverence. “Yes.”

Relieved, Chris took Peter’s hand in his own and slipped the ring on his finger. It was perfect, from the look to the fit, and it made something loosen in Chris’s chest to see it where it belonged.

When Peter continued to gape at him, clearly not sure what to do with everything he was feeling, Chris took pity on him and pulled him into an embrace. Peter’s arms came up to cling to Chris’s shoulders from behind.

“Hey. You okay?”

“I’m not sure,” Peter breathed. “I think so. I said ‘yes,’ right?”

“You did. Twice.”

“Good. That’s good.” They sat there in silence for a few moments before Peter finally stirred and pulled away far enough to give Chris a kiss. “Of course I’ll marry you.” He lifted his hand and took a good, long look at the ring. “This is stunning.”

“So are you,” Chris told him, “so it’s right where it belongs.”

Peter smirked, apparently back to his old self. “Such a romantic, Christopher. I never would have guessed, back before we started dating.”

Chris laughed at that. “Did you ever think you’d be engaged to an Argent?”

“Of course not,” Peter admitted. “Times have certainly changed, though, and if that change starts with us, well then we’ll just have to show everyone how it’s done. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Chris nodded. “Feels good to be a trailblazer.” He brushed his lips over Peter’s temple. “Speaking of time, we have a dinner reservation in a couple of hours. We should get back to the hotel so we can get cleaned up.”

Peter shot him a mischievous look. “What if we decide to start celebrating a little early?”

“Well, there’s always room service.” Chris arched an eyebrow at him, and Peter’s grin turned devilish. He pushed himself to his feet and offered a hand to Chris.

“Shall we?”

They got everything together quickly and headed back toward where Chris had parked, stopping just long enough to take a picture of themselves in front of the Wolf Pack cabin sign.

When they got to the basketball court, Chris gave it one last, long look. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, reluctant to leave such a big part of his formative years behind.

Peter stepped up beside him. Though he was silent, he slipped his fingers through Chris’s and squeezed. The coolness of Peter’s ring against his skin reminded Chris that they had an engagement to celebrate.

“Time to start the next chapter,” Chris finally said, feeling at peace with the path his life had taken so far. That path, after all, had led him to Peter Hale. “Let’s go.”

\---

**Author's Note:**

> For those who haven't played one-on-one, scoring is a little different. Each basket counts as one point, unless the shot was taken from behind what's typically the 3-point line, in which case, it's worth two points. First player to 21 points wins.
> 
> [This](https://media.gettyimages.com/photos/the-basketball-court-of-an-abandoned-elementary-school-is-seen-after-picture-id534528134) is vaguely what I had in mind for the court, but without the wall around it. (Let me know if link stops working.)
> 
> Come talk Petopher with me on [Tumblr](http://anodyneer.tumblr.com) and/or [Pillowfort](https://pillowfort.io/anodyneer)! <3


End file.
